Rising from the Depths
by Neiths Arrow
Summary: Episode tag to Abyss.
1. Chapter 1

Rising from the Depths

Author: Neiths Arrow

Email: Season 6

Spoilers: Everything up to Season 6

Pairings: None

Category: Episode Tag, Angst

Rating: PG13

Archive: Jackfic, Heliopolis

Summary: How did Jack O'Neill return to normal after being tortured by Ba'al? My take on it.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm only borrowing them and will return them as soon as you are done reading. No profit is being made on this story; it is for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Note: This story was written over a year ago, but somehow disappeared off the internet. This is a repost. It was written because I was driven to know how Jack recovered from his time with Ba'al. It is unbeta'd, but I've made minor changes to correct punctuation and spelling errors.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He felt himself fall to the floor as the gravity field was released, but he didn't have the energy to prevent it. Ba'al's words echoed in his mind. ('As you regain the strength to return here, consider this – it will be far worse . . . next time.') He couldn't, no he couldn't go through this again. He had no defenses left. Every assault on his body directly triggered naked nerve endings. When tortured in the past, he had always had the option to let go – to die, but this time . . . this time he had died more times than he could remember. He was beyond hope that he would be rescued from this hell. He was on the brink of insanity from the torturous pain and endless despair. He only had one possible out. A desperate whisper escaped from his mouth. "Daniel."

It barely registered as the two Jaffa easily lifted him and half carried, half dragged him through the route to the sarcophagus. All the previous times, he had not been conscious when placed into the stone box. He struggled to avoid this form of torture but was quickly subdued by the inhumanly strong guards. The remembered words echoed in his head. ('It will be far worse next time.') The bi-fold top closed over him leaving the eerie glow seen only from the inside of the rejuvenating coffin. ('It will be far worse next time.') Now that there was no audience, hopelessness washed over him, and his body gave in to his inner weakness. Yes, there would be a next time and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Daniel was the only one with the power to stop this. But Daniel was gone and had probably never been here in the first place. He lost consciousness as the ancient sarcophagus began healing his body and warping his spirit.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A bolt of fear ran through Jack as he revived and heard noises. He knew the unwelcome reprieve brought by the sarcophagus was short-lived. Much of his physical strength and energy had been replaced, but his spirit was more drained. As the stone cover of the sarcophagus ground open, he thought 'Oh God! Will I have to go back right away? Oh please, God! I can't go back in there!' He felt his heart race and forced his quick, shallow breathing to slow and deepen. ('It will be far worse . . .') 'How can it get worse? No, don't think about it.' He closed his eyes slowly to calm himself.

The cadenced thump of booted feet caused him to snap his eyes open just in time to see the impassive faces of the two Jaffa peer into his revolving grave. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him from his macabre sanctuary. Nothing was said as Jack was escorted back to his cell. The slump of his shoulders spoke of dejection and demoralization. ('It will be far worse . . .') Daniel was probably not going to help him. ('. . . next time.') There is always a plan B. But his plans were now limited to how he could die and stay dead. All he had to do was tell Ba'al why Kanaan came back. His resolve and reasons for keeping this information to himself were beginning to pale in comparison to the pain he was enduring. He wondered if the sarcophagus was affecting his thinking. As the Jaffa activated the artificial gravity field, O'Neill slid down the floor/wall. He remained sitting where he landed. Though his body was healed, hunger, thirst, fatigue, and fear had taken a toll on his spirit. His time in the sarcophagus ensured that he would not die from either hunger or thirst, so Ba'al had not bothered to provide food or water since his capture. His fear-heightened senses made sleep impossible because he imagined that every sound was made by approaching guards. Again, he would not die from lack of sleep.

O'Neill was not used to giving up, but each death he suffered was the ultimate in giving up. That bastard Ba'al was forcing him to give up over and over. Each time robbed his spirit of the inner strength that he had collected each time he had cheated death. Cheating death now only resulted in more pain with no end in sight. He was so tired – so tired. He thought he heard a noise in the hallway and his whole body tensed involuntarily. He almost whimpered aloud. "Oh God! I can't. . ." He swallowed dryly and listened intently. There were no further noises, and he relaxed as much as his hypersensitive nerves would permit. 'It will be far worse for me next time, and I couldn't take it the last time.'

Jack decided to take stock of his situation. Daniel was no longer in the cell and had not been there the last time either. He realized there was a good probability that Daniel had never been here at all – that he had been an hallucination. O'Neill replayed his options. He could not escape this cell – nor could he overpower the two Jaffa that came to escort him back to 'the room.' He had tried to appeal to Ba'al to let him die. Jack concluded, 'I'm on my own. I've used up all my options. There is no longer any hope of rescue, and I can't go through one more session with the knives and acid or . . . .' ('It will be far worse next time.') O'Neill shuddered. 'I need to end this. No matter how, I need to end this. There is only one way out. My last act in this life will be the act of a coward. My betrayal will mean that Shalen will suffer – yet another person will suffer because of me. I've never met her, but dammit . . . I feel what Kanaan felt for her. Oh God! I'm actually thinking of betraying someone I love.' Another face framed with short, blond hair entered his mind. 'Maybe I can endure it one more time.' ('Remember this, it will be far worse next time.') All thoughts lead back to Ba'al's chamber. His face slackened in disbelief and shock as all fight left him.

His heart went dead. His body stilled; he knew what he had to do. He sat in numb silence as he realized that he had finally been broken. He would tell Ba'al what he wanted to know. Colonel Jonathan O'Neill would be remembered as a coward. There was one last hope that needed to be eliminated before he was taken in to Ba'al.

He looked up toward the only way out of his cell and weakly called out. "Daniel?"

"I'm here Jack."

"You were gone." Jack's voice seemed to convey a childlike hurt, betrayal, and the despair of a man who has finally reached the end of hope.

Daniel was deeply saddened when he saw the state of his friend. "I know, I'm sorry, there was something I had to do, but I'm back now and I promise I'll stay with you 'til this is over."

After a pause, Jack responded despondently, "It'll never be over."

"Jack, you just have to hang in there a little while longer."

"No! I can't, I can't go back in there. If I go back, I swear to God, I'll give Ba'al what he wants. I'll tell him."

Daniel was more saddened than shocked by this revelation; he knew all too well the limitations of the mortal body. Daniel noted that Jack kept his eyes lowered. He knew the proud man must be ashamed, yet so full of despair that he couldn't spare the energy to care. However, Daniel's curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "What?"

"That he loved her." Jack's admission came out as if an admission of his own weakness.

"Kanaan did." Daniel clarified this point.

Jack's face remained expressionless. "He came back for her. He wanted to save her."

"Ba'al doesn't know this."

"If he finds out, he'll do to her what he's doing to me. Daniel, if you don't end this . . . I'll tell him." Jack shook his head in disbelief at his own words. He knew Daniel would understand the depth of his desperation; he was about to embark on a coward's path by allowing another person to suffer in order to end his own pain.

To Daniel, it looked like someone had just punched his former team leader in the gut causing him to expel his soul. It confirmed that Daniel had made the right decision. "You won't have to. It's almost over, Jack."

The stricken man looked at Daniel for the first time with a look that screamed, 'Didn't you hear what I just said?' Instead, he asked, "How?"

"You were right. There's always a way out . . . at least there's always a chance. Your journey's not over Jack. Not yet."

When Daniel didn't back down, Jack asked, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. It was Sam, and Teal'c, . . . and Jonas too."

"What?" A spark of hope ignited in the Colonel.

"They thought of something." Daniel looked smug.

Jack wanted more details. "What?" The deep rumble of an explosion nearby caused Jack to jump to his feet.

Daniel continued. "This is it. All you ever wanted was a fighting chance, Jack. Now you have it. If anyone can make it out of here . . . you can."

As the explosions continued, a voice was heard shouting, "Lord Yu attacks!" The SG1 prisoner looked up hopefully. When he looked back down, Daniel was gone. "Daniel?" The gravity field rotated and Jack was now standing on the proper floor. As he began walking toward the doorway, he looked back into the cell with a dubious expression on his face. 'Why would Lord Yu have attacked the gravity generators – the one thing that could release me? Daniel didn't help, my ass.' He would save these thoughts for later . . . after he had dealt with a couple things and was safely back on Earth.

After Jack saw the Jaffa round the corner, he quickly dispatched the guard and took his weapon. The escaping prisoner located the woman, Shalen and took her with him; he could not leave her behind or this would have all been for nothing. He had one more task to do before attempting to leave this godforsaken place. O'Neill knew the path to the room well since he had traveled it so often. Just as he thought, during the chaos of the sudden attack most of the Jaffa were called away to defend the outpost. This was confirmed when he heard the distinct sounds of overhead battle. O'Neill and Shalen continued cautiously down the hallways. 'Good, the room isn't guarded.' He pulled Shalen into the room and saw her eyes round with fear. He raised his weapon and fired at the sarcophagus twice. He didn't want to chance coming back if they were captured. He could endure one final death and reasoned that Shalen would not have to endure being tortured to death more than once as well. Jack breathed a deep sigh of relief. As far as he was concerned, the torture was over.

The building rumbled deeply signaling to the Air Force Colonel that Ba'al's mother ship had departed. He gestured toward the door. "We have to get out of here." Shalen guided their path out of the building. Jack felt the adrenalin rush as they stealthily navigated the corridors and made it safely outside. The fortress was relatively abandoned, but he could see death gliders and other spacecraft battling in the sky. The planet was continually bombarded as they made their way to the nearby Stargate. As they traveled, Jack formulated his plan to gate to the interim emergency site. He did not want to gate to the Alpha site directly from Ba'al's planet. As they approached the DHD, he shuddered at the memory of pain in his back from a staff weapon. Looking warily to the sky and behind them, he dialed one of the uninhabited planets known to all SGC personnel as a contingency for base personnel without a GDO. As the last chevron cleared and the 'whoosh' died down, he grabbed Shalen's hand and ran through the circle.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Due to the force of their entrance into the wormhole, the escaping pair were forcefully expelled out of the stone circle onto the new planet. This is similar to when exiting a moving sidewalk while running – the pedestrian stops abruptly onto the stationary sidewalk, but the forward momentum of the body continues. O'Neill rolled down the steps of the interim planet skillfully. Shalen was apparently not such a skilled gate traveler; she tripped and fell flat in a stunned heap at the base of the gate. O'Neill helped her up. As she realized they were no longer on Ba'al's planet, she gave a great shuddering sigh and wrapped her arms around her rescuer. He grasped her hand and pulled her down to the DHD. "Come on, we're not done yet." He dialed the Alpha site and they again made their way through the great ring, but this time they walked through the gate.

This trip was more gentle, and they smoothly walked out onto the platform at the top of the ramp. They were quickly surrounded by armed Jaffa and SGC personnel. O'Neill turned to calm Shalen as she screamed in fear. Major Ferretti shouted out, "Hold your fire!" He took in the appearance of the two figures before him and asked incredulously, "Colonel O'Neill? Are you OK, sir?"

Jack had already begun to feel the artificial strength of the sarcophagus fail while still imprisoned; his escape had been accomplished by riding on adrenalin. Each minute depleted his stores of this stimulant, and he quickly found he was no longer up to the task of doing much more than walking and standing. His legs were starting to shake with exertion. He responded to Ferretti's question simply. "We need to get to the SGC, but I don't have a GDO."

Ferretti kept his eyes on the recently arrived pair and made a decision to trust his former CO. "Stand down. Get a medic here on the double." He looked at Jack's shirt and his glazed eyes. "Sir, you've been missing for over a week. We're really glad to see you. What happened?"

Jack raised hooded eyes and smiled weakly. "Lou, I really don't have the energy to tell this story twice. Could you just dial us home?"

Ferretti nodded once and gave the order to dial the SGC. He noticed that Colonel O'Neill was getting weaker by the minute. He thought the symbiote would have helped him, but the injuries revealed by the shirt had probably drained the unwelcome hitchhiker. "Sir, I'll give them an advanced warning to have a medical team waiting for you when you arrive. Can you walk?"

O'Neill's response was to give a weak smile and a nod, "If you hurry."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At the SGC, the intercom announced "Unscheduled offworld activation." General Hammond hurried to the control room. Major Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas also made their way in the hopes that they would have news of their leader. They were not disappointed. As they entered the room, they heard the General yell, "Medical team to the gateroom." Hammond was surprised when Dr. Frasier appeared at his elbow almost immediately along with the remainder of SG1.

The General explained, "It's the Alpha site. Colonel O'Neill just gated there a few minutes ago." He turned to the doctor. "He's injured, but they don't know how badly." Hammond took his hand off the microphone and shouted, "Escort Colonel O'Neill through."

"Uhhh! Sir? There's a woman with him." Ferretti warned through the speaker.

The members of SG1 looked at each other and smiled . . . Teal'c nodded his head in appreciation of their deductive powers. Hammond looked at SG1 and queried, "Major?"

"Sir, it should be Ba'al's lotar . . . uhhh . . . slave." Her voice lilted at the end to prompt the General to remember that they had already discussed the slave previously in the briefing room.

Hammond nodded then shouted to the technician who was two feet away. "Open the iris." As the iris parted, he turned to the microphone. "Escort them both Major Ferretti. We have a medical team standing by." He turned away from the microphone to the technician and stated in a lower voice. "As soon as they're through, notify the Tok'ra that we have Kanaan and Colonel O'Neill here at the SGC."

"Yes sir."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

O'Neill's senses were still on heightened alert as he stepped through the Stargate into the SGC. He had unwillingly given up his zat and felt defenseless without it. He saw Ferretti offer his hand in assistance, but O'Neill ignored it. Instead, he held an alert, wide-based stance with his weight distributed toward the balls of his feet, ready to spring if needed. He kept his back toward the now disengaged gate and shifted his eyes alertly to the large number of people in the gateroom. Upon entering the room, he had immediately taken note of the SF's with their guns pointed toward him and Shalen. When General Hammond gave the order to stand down, his body relaxed somewhat, but he remained on heightened alert, moving his head sharply when one of the guards made a sound to his right. He unconsciously tightened his grip on Shalen's hand causing her to protest. He looked at her quickly and saw fear and alertness fighting for control over her features. He attempted a gentle smile and said, "It's alright. They won't hurt you."

O'Neill started when he saw a small figure disengage from the crowd and walk toward him. He swayed slightly on his feet and acknowledged Dr. Fraiser with a nod of recognition.

"Sir, you're home."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After the iris opened, SGC personnel braced themselves for the unfamiliar site of O'Neill as a Tok'ra. Unfortunately, an injured O'Neill was not such an unfamiliar site. Dr. Frasier hoped the symbiote was able to repair whatever physical damage had occurred. Carter was poised in anticipation in the control booth. She and General Hammond knew the danger a returned captive from the Goa'uld presented and they were ready to take defensive action if necessary. Fears of Goauld possession were minimal, however, since O'Neill already had a symbiote. In the gateroom, a team of SF's warily stood at full alert with guns drawn. Teal'c waited at the base of the Stargate with Dr. Frasier and her gloved and ready medical team. Teal'c was ready to defend the SGC if necessary, while also being available to assist O'Neill. They all looked expectantly toward the gate. Ferretti appeared first. He stepped to the right side and turned back toward the wormhole. He looked ready to physically assist whomever walked through the gate next.

The tall figure of Colonel O'Neill broke cleanly through the shimmering puddle. There were audible gasps as the onlookers took in the appearance of his bloodied shirt. General Hammond took a moment to assess Jack and the woman next to him. He noted O'Neill's battle ready stance, but also observed the instability of his stance. He saw no immediate danger. "Stand down people."

Sam Carter noted O'Neill's hyper-alert state. She had seen this stance many times in battle situations, but she also noted his deep fatigue. His rapidly shifting eyes gave some hint as to the tensions he had endured. She saw him start at a noise to his side, but he quickly recovered. He turned to the woman at his side and she saw what must be Kanaan give her a reassuring smile . . . except it was the Colonel's face. She shuddered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

From the base of the ramp, Janet Frasier watched O'Neill closely. She had already dismissed the woman at his side as she did not appear to be injured. She asked a nearby nurse to examine the woman to make sure she didn't need medical attention. As Frasier walked up the ramp, she used her observation skills to take note of O'Neill's condition before she touched him. It was a good sign that he refused the physical support offered by Ferretti. However, his stance was unsteady and his posture, though alert, lacked its usual energy. His eyes shifted constantly like a person under considerable stress; this was confirmed when he jumped at an unexpected sound. She made a note to move slowly and speak softly to him. His smile to the woman at his side reassured the doctor that his injuries were not too severe. "Colonel, you're home now." He did not appear to hear her, so she moved closer. He focused his eyes on her quickly and she held his gaze. "Sir, you're home." He nodded his acknowledgement and visibly relaxed. He swayed slightly and Shalen held his arm to steady him.

Janet's visual scan continued. She counted numerous fatal injuries on the shirt he was wearing; some of the bloodstains looked fairly recent. The whiteness of his face was consistent with considerable blood loss, but she knew even a Tok'ra could not heal so many injuries within such a short time span. She looked into his eyes to observe his pupils; she did not like the pain she saw there. "Colonel, where are you injured?"

He responded with a shake of his head, "I'm not."

She smiled, "You let me be the judge of that, sir." She grasped his arm. Together, she and Shalen walked him to the base of the ramp. When the nurse led Shalen to the side, O'Neill gave the former slave a reassuring nod. He was assisted to sit on a gurney. Janet carefully lifted his shirt and was surprised by the lack of wounds on his skin. She came to a quick conclusion, "Sir, you know better than to wear a shirt with someone else's blood on it." She made a mental note to provide a refresher course on Universal Precautions.

She was puzzled by his next words. "It's mine."

"The shirt? But all these holes . . . ?"

"It's mine."

"I don't understand!"

He looked into her eyes briefly and mumbled, "Sarcophagus."

As the horror of what the shirt represented became clear, Janet looked up open mouthed and outraged toward the General in the glass booth. She could tell that he had heard as well. She saw Sam mouth, "Oh my God!" Their eyes met briefly in shared dismay before both returned to their work.

Janet composed herself and turned back toward her patient who was swaying on the gurney. "Colonel, can you walk or do you want a ride to the infirmary?"

O'Neill nodded and slid off the gurney onto his feet. Teal'c appeared suddenly at his side to lend support as they walked to the infirmary.

So softly that she had to strain to hear, Jack requested, "Janet? I'd like a shower first."

She responded doubtfully, "Sir, I don't think . . ."

The naked request in his eyes as he turned toward her stopped her protest. The lack of confidence in that look spoke volumes about the loss of control he had endured. Teal'c's softly spoken support reassured the doctor that no harm would come to the returned soldier. "I will accompany him."

Dr. Frasier rethought her doubts. After all, the Colonel did have a Tok'ra symbiote to help him. She nodded her head with only a little reluctance. "OK, sir, but the next stop you and Kanaan make will be my examination room."

Jack hesitated briefly before nodding once. He realized that Dr. Frasier thought he still carried a symbiote. If he told her the truth now, he risked losing his shower. He made eye contact with Teal'c and O'Neill knew the Jaffa would not reveal that he sensed no symbiote.

Janet insisted on being present as Jack disrobed in the infirmary shower. He noticed the wrinkled noses of those present. He internally shrugged, but did not have the energy to respond that one tends to lose bodily functions when one dies, and dies, and dies. Janet observed his body for wounds and appeared satisfied when none materialized. He caught her looking closely at the holes in the shirt, but she didn't say anything more. He showered as thoroughly as his limited energy allowed – the comforting heat increased his fatigue. He was almost asleep on his feet when he found himself thinking, 'I would feel better if I could only spend a little time in the …' He caught himself short. He had been about to say 'sarcophagus.' 'Oiyy!' He toweled himself dry while sitting down and obediently donned the hospital gown and pants he was provided.

By the time they were half way to the examination room, O'Neill had stumbled twice. After the second time, Dr Frasier placed him into the wheelchair that had been following them since they left the gateroom. Dr. Frasier observed that O'Neill did not protest – that was a bad sign.

They found General Hammond in the examination room. He and Frasier battled with their eyes. Her mouth pursed with determination. The General raised his hand to Dr. Frasier's imminent protest. "I need to inform the Tok'ra about Kanaan's health."

"Please keep it short, sir."

The General nodded curtly to the acknowledged head of this particular domain. He turned back to O'Neill. "I'm sorry Jack, could I speak with Kanaan?"

After a brief hesitation, O'Neill responded. "Kanaan is dead, sir. He's been dead for . . . what's the date? How long has it been since I left Antarctica?" O'Neill realized that his last fully conscious memory before this ordeal had occurred on the cold continent.

There was stunned silence in the room. General Hammond broke the silence by telling Jack the date and filling him in on when he had left the SGC. "Son, why don't we let Dr. Frasier examine you and then we'll ask questions."

"With all due respect, sir, I won't last that long." He looked at their shocked faces and rephrased, "I won't stay awake that long, sir."

Hammond looked at Dr. Frasier. "Could we do both simultaneously doctor?"

With her curiosity warring over her medical concern, Dr. Frasier responded, "Yes, but I don't want anyone interfering with my staff as they conduct their tests."

"Agreed."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	2. Chapter 2

"Doc, could I have some water?"

"No. I'm sorry, Colonel. We need to do some tests to make sure there are no internal injuries. When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"

"The last I remember was in Antarctica, but I'm sure Kanaan had something when we were with the Tok'ra."

Janet was determined to keep her reactions in check. She was shocked that he was still alive after 1 ½ weeks without food or water and outraged that he was treated this way. She decided to find out what other kinds of injuries he had suffered. She carefully phrased her request for the information knowing that he wouldn't reveal what was done to him. However, he might respond if she depersonalized it by asking about the shirt. "Sir, there were a number of holes in the shirt you were wearing. Could you tell me what made those holes?"

Jack's voice was without inflection as he responded. "Staff weapon, knives . . . acid."

Janet immediately began to calculate the medical tests they would run. "How long were the knives?"

"The blades were . . . about 7 or 8 inches long." Anticipating her next question, he continued, "Some went all the way through."

"Do you know if the acid broke the skin to your muscle layer?"

He closed his eyes, shuddered and nodded. "It cauterized as it went through . . . almost all the way through my body." He kept his eyes closed and continued, "Sometimes it would get into my blood . . . " He opened glazed eyes as he relived that particular torture. "I didn't last long after . . . ."

Janet turned away so he wouldn't see her eyes fill with tears. Through gritted teeth she asked, "How many times did you . . . ?"

"I lost count after ten times in the sarcophagus."

She dreaded asking. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah. I know at least once, he . . . dropped me down a long pit. I hit the ground pretty hard and I . . . died that time too. I don't know if he dropped my body every time because I was . . . ." He gestured weakly with his hand.

Well that settled it. She pretty much had to run all the major tests available. She would start with blood tests because they took the longest to get results. Hammond watched as she began issuing orders to her staff in a rapid staccato. While she was gone, he would ask his own questions.

"Son, I know you've been through a lot, but I need to get some answers."

Jack nodded and dazedly answered, "Yes, sir" as a flurry of activity surrounded them.

Hammond hesitated – not knowing where to begin. "What happened Jack? Why did you and Kanaan leave the Tok'ra compound . . . without telling anyone?"

"I don't know." Jack was reminded of his repetitive responses to Ba'al; he shuddered. This movement was not lost on Hammond. After swallowing, Jack proceeded. "Other than a brief time with the Tokra, I swear to God sir, the first thing I remember after leaving the SGC is waking up in a sarcophagus on Ba'al's planet."

"Why was he torturing you? What did he want to know?" Hammond's gaze bored into O'Neill's face.

Jack understood that Hammond needed to know if the SGC and Earth had been compromised. "Sir, all he wanted to know was why I – why Kanaan went back to the planet. I couldn't tell him at first because I didn't know." O'Neill hesitated.

"At first? Go on, son. Why did Kanaan go back?" Hammond asked more gently.

"Kanaan went back to rescue Shalen, Ba'al's slave." In a slightly angry voice he continued, "He left her behind." With a wry smile, he explained, "I don't think after . . . . Because of me, I don't think he could live with that." He looked at Hammond briefly, then responded in a barely audible voice. "I didn't tell him, sir. I didn't tell him anything."

"Son, I can only guess at what that cost you." He grasped Jack's arm firmly. "Good job. Now, let's let the good doctor do her job. We'll discuss this further when you're better." Hammond didn't miss the haunted look that passed through O'Neill's eyes and guessed that it had been close. But he knew to trust O'Neill's word that he had not revealed anything of importance that would jeopardize this world. As he turned to walk away, O'Neill quietly asked, "General, how did Yu know . . . Lord Yu . . . How did he know to attack the gravity generators?"

Hammond smiled. "You can thank your team for that one Jack. They figured out where you were. They came up with a plan to use Yu's mother ship to attack the compound by leaking information to him. It was one helluva plan."

Jack nodded his head solemnly. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for not leaving me behind."

Hammond smiled and slowly nodded his head before he turned and walked out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With the progression of familiar medical tests, Jack's heightened alert state turned into fatigue. He reviewed the events since his illness in Antarctica. He was deep in thought and cooperatively extended his arms for various tests, shifted his body and moved onto various testing machines without a word of protest. Janet observed his uncharacteristic cooperation and worried about the Colonel's mental state. She was not fooled into thinking he would accept psychological help from professionals. It was not his way. He preferred to hide in a corner and lick his wounds until he could appear to cope in public. She wasn't sure what that technique cost him inside, but she knew he repeatedly used this coping mechanism. She decided to keep close tabs on him for a while.

Janet realized the nurse was talking and waiting for direction. She repeated, "Doctor Frasier? We're done with all the tests."

O'Neill seemed to be lost in thought and unaware of his surroundings. His head suddenly bobbed forward and she realized that he had been dozing with his eyes open. She turned to the nurse and quietly said, "Let's let Colonel O'Neill get some rest. Give him privacy, . . . but I want him monitored."

The nurse looked back toward O'Neill with sympathetic eyes. "Yes, doctor."

As the nurse gently pushed him backwards, O'Neill opened glazed eyes and asked, "Doc, am I going to be OK?" His focus on her intensified.

She knew he wanted – demanded honesty from her. She responded to the man in front of her. "Jack, I won't lie to you. You'll probably go through withdrawals from so much time in the sarcophagus. But I suspect it won't be as bad as what . . . Daniel went through because you were . . . deceased. My tests revealed a number of anomalies. Your body chemistry has a ways to go before returning to normal."

O'Neill sighed and closed his eyes. As Frasier turned to leave, she felt his hand grab her forearm and she turned to find her patient gazing intently into her eyes. He stated flatly, "I don't want to be placed under restraints."

"I'm sorry Colonel, but I will do everything I have to do to make sure you and others are safe."

He swallowed, then looked away toward the ceiling. She glimpsed a look of naked fear in his eyes before he closed them away from her view. His strained voice pleaded, "Please, Janet. I couldn't move while . . .." He shuddered. She felt his grasp on her arm loosen in hopelessness.

It took her breath away that he allowed his anguish to be exposed. "Colonel, I promise you that it will be a last resort."

His only response was a single nod. Janet left his bedside quietly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After his visit with Jack in the infirmary, General Hammond joined Sam and Shalen in the gateroom. The SGC had received a GDO signal from the Tok'ra. Shalen watched with wide, fearful eyes as the aliens walked down the ramp toward the waiting humans. She jumped as the lead visitor spoke with the gruffness of her former master. "We wish to speak with Kanaan at once."

The General was not intimidated by the arrogant visitor. "That won't be possible. According to Colonel O'Neill, Kanaan is dead."

Sam and the Tok'ra looked at Hammond in surprise. "Sir, what happened?"

Hammond glared at the representative. "Apparently, as soon as Colonel O'Neill was caught by Ba'al's forces, Kanaan hightailed it out of him."

The Tok'ra was not swayed by the Generals accusation. "Yes, he gave his life to ensure that no Tok'ra secrets were revealed. Kanaan would have also done his best to erase his host's short-term memory." Hammond did not look convinced.

"Then he died bravely." They all turned to look at Shalen. "He came back for me . . . to rescue me. He looked so different . . . I didn't know who he was at first." She had tears in her eyes as she remembered the events. "I was so scared. I could hear . . . the host screaming. I could hear everything. Ba'al made me look at his body every time he . . . " She sobbed in remembered anguish.

Sam suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. Her imagination now had more information about what Jack had gone through; the circumstances that had caused each hole in that shirt were somehow more real and connected to his suffering. Hammond shot a calming look in her direction to remind her that the Colonel was back at the SGC and safe. She took a deep, calming breath and gave the General a faint smile in response.

Shalen suddenly quieted, then looked up with determination. "Ba'al is not a god. Kanaan was right."

The Tok'ra wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "You are welcome to join us in the fight to eliminate the system lords. Your knowledge would be very helpful in this battle."

Shalen nodded proudly. "I will join the fight in Kanaan's name."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"How is Colonel O'Neill?" Janet was pulled from her thoughts by Samantha's expectant face.

The doctor blinked rapidly to conceal shining eyes. "Physically, he's fine. As much as I hate what was done to him, I'm grateful the sarcophagus healed all the physical damage from the torture."

"Then he'll be OK."

Janet was silent for a moment before replying, "Sam, he's been through a lot. I don't think he'll bounce back from this one so easily. What was done to him was . . . inhuman." Her voice cracked and she had to stop talking to choke back a sob. She fought for control over her face.

Sam's eyes widened and she tightened her lips together. Dr. Fraiser rarely lost her composure. She touched Janet's arm in sympathy, but Janet shrugged off her concern. "Physically, he's fine. . . for now. He'll probably go through withdrawals similar to what Daniel endured. I don't think it will be as bad because the sarcophagus had to . . . revive him each time." She continued bitterly, "I suspect Ba'al didn't let him revive more than was necessary to keep him alive."

"Janet, how is he?" Sam's gaze became more penetrating.

The doctor sighed. "He's quiet – more quiet than I've ever seen him. He's going through the motions, but . . . even when he jokes, it's half hearted. It's like he's given up on all his defense mechanisms and all that's left is . . . Jack." Janet shivered at how disconcerting it was to see the Colonel this way. "Sam, it was really bad for him."

"Can I see him?"

"Give him some time to sleep. He's going to need all the sleep he can get before he starts the withdrawal process." As she looked at the concerned Major, Janet realized that nothing could keep SG1 away. She shook her head with resignation and gave a gentle grin. "OK, but try to keep it quiet."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam just wanted to see him. She wanted to look at him to make sure that he was okay – that he was really here. Then she could go home and sleep knowing that he was in good hands. She missed his boisterous personality and ill temper. She missed his jokes and childlike charm. 'He's always bounced back before.' After getting speared into the gateroom wall and after Antarctica . . . the first time . . . he was back on duty as soon as he was medically cleared. She was always amazed that he jumped right back into work without seeming to be bothered by past hardships. Janet must be mistaken. She frowned and bit her lip as a nagging doubt entered her mind. She remembered the Colonel's horror when confronted with the goa'uld who had been repeatedly eaten to death and revived in a sarcophagus. What the Colonel suffered wasn't as bad . . . was it? She lifted her head with determination while pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She mumbled out loud, "He'll be fine. He's always fine."

As she turned to enter the infirmary, Teal'c and Jonas approached. "Major Carter, have we received permission to see Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam began walking into the Colonel's room while answering the question. "We're only allowed in if we keep quiet and let the Colonel sleep. He's been asleep for only a couple hours. He's OK right now, but he needs all the sleep he can get. Dr. Frasier says he'll probably suffer withdrawal symptoms from so much time in the sarcophagus, but she expects a full recovery." She had to speak louder over a technician who was noisily moving a piece of equipment out of the room.

The ever-curious Jonas asked for more details about the fascinating woman who had accompanied the Colonel through the Stargate. "What happened to the woman he went back for?"

"Her name is Shalen. She decided to stay with the Tok'ra."

Teal'c clarified for his alien teammate, "So she may continue Kanaan's fight in his name."

None of the remainder of SG1 saw the bed occupant open his eyes. "Hey, I'm tryin' to sleep here."

The weak voice came from behind her. Sam turned around with pleasure at the sarcastic remark. "Sorry, sir. Glad to see you're OK." She studied him intently to see if he was, indeed, OK. She noted that his sarcastic wit lacked it's usual energy.

"Listen! That was a good idea you had there." His words were slurred with fatigue and half-hearted interest in talking, but he knew his team needed the reassurance of hearing his voice.

Sam hesitated in her response as she tried to gauge his mood. "Actually, sir . . . we all contributed to it." Jack's gaze lost focus as he drifted into his thoughts. The pretense at normality was too much for him to continue. Thinking that he might be falling asleep, Sam walked closer to his bed to capture his attention. "Do you need anything?"

In truth, Jack found it difficult to keep his interest in external conversations while he had an internal monologue raging inside. He kept his face passive as he watched her – facial expression required energy. Because he knew she needed to do something for him, O'Neill responded to her question. "Water."

"Sure." Sam noted that his processing speed seemed to be slowed. She also saw what Janet meant by his uncharacteristic quietness. Without his usual defenses in place, he appeared vulnerable. His flat, honest gaze was almost too much to bear. She ushered Jonas and Teal'c out of the room to allow the Colonel privacy. In truth, she was uncomfortable with this stranger – and a little unnerved.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"He doesn't look well Major Carter." Jonas blurted honestly as they walked around the corner.

Teal'c nodded slightly in agreement and commented simply. "He has been changed by what he endured."

Sam's shoulders hunched in sadness. "We have to be cheerful around him to bring his spirits up. He'll need our strength to get back to normal. It's important that we act normally."

Though Jonas' face kept the perpetual grin, his eyes reflected inner sadness. "How is that possible Major Carter? This wasn't a normal experience . . . for any of us."

"Indeed."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Teal'c retired to his room to Kel-No-Reem. He had been awake and active for days while they searched for ways to rescue O'Neill from captivity. The Jaffa's thoughts turned inward as he attempted to forget recent events and spend time in healing meditation. However, images of O'Neill's face – particularly his eyes – kept intruding on his thoughts. He recognized those eyes. He had seen them many times when he was in the service of Apophis. He cringed at the remembrance that he had caused that look in the eyes of so many. The torture inflicted by the unwilling servant of the false god was done impassively – rarely did Teal'c hold any personal animosity toward the victim. In fact, the opposite was true. Teal'c became a master at bringing death swiftly to the victim despite the fact that he or she would only return from the sarcophagus for further torture. He learned to gauge the measure of the person's spirit by how long they could last before crying for mercy. He suspected that O'Neill had never reached that point. Instead, he knew that his commanding officer – the one with whom he had chosen to align his alliance – would have been one of the few who were tortured continually until the sarcophagus warped the original resolve. Teal'c wondered how far O'Neill had gone. He sighed deeply and quieted his mind and body to allow his symbiote to fortify his body. There would be plenty of time to learn O'Neill's fate after he went through withdrawal from the effects of the sarcophagus.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Samantha Carter rose from the base quarters. She had chosen not to go home in case the Colonel needed . . . anything. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, she fell into a deep slumber. She had been awake for days trying to come up with a plan to free her CO. Sam felt she had been somehow inadequate with tactical skills; O'Neill would have been able to come up with a plan had he been in the same situation. The deep fatigue from guilt was relieved now that he was home – back at the SGC. She was proud of the way he had handled himself throughout his captivity. She knew he could not have broken; he was such a strong leader. She had never served with such a strong leader. Sam remembered thinking the same about her father. She smiled at the memory of the total hero worship she had felt for her father. She frowned. That was all destroyed the day her mother had died. She could never expend such blind faith in Jacob Carter again. At that point, she had realized he was human – humans made mistakes. It was the only way she could continue to love him – the only way she could forgive him. In Colonel O'Neill, she had found a similar hero worship to the one she had felt for her father. Her CO could be depended upon to exhibit the consistent, stubborn resistance she had observed on their many missions. In all that time, she had never seen him broken. Janet was wrong about his current state of mind . . . wasn't she? Sam tried to put herself in the Colonel's shoes. But repeated death and revival through a sarcophagus were so far outside normal experience that she could not imagine it. His prolonged experience blending with a Tok'ra was beyond her own experience as well. Jack O'Neill never did anything half way. Because she wanted to help him get back to normal, she hitched her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face, and readied herself for a vigil at his side in the infirmary.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_O'Neill watched in horror as Shalen was trapped in the gravity web. The two Jaffa held him back as he struggled to free himself and help her. Ba'al played with the knife in his hand and laughed at O'Neill's pain. "There is still enough of the Tok'ra left in you to feel pain as the one you love is tortured to death over and over." Ba'al held the knife handle in two fingers and let the gravity rotate the blade to point toward Shalen. "O'Neill. Watch what you have done. Watch what your cowardice has done." As Ba'al released the knife, O'Neill screamed, "Shalen!!!"_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam was viscerally jolted as she heard O'Neill's anguished scream. "Shalen!!!" He was sitting up with eyes that were wide with horror and hopelessness – his breaths came out in ragged grunts. She ran from the nearby work table to his side. "Sir, it was just a nightmare. Shalen is fine. You're at the SGC. It was a nightmare." She tried to calm her pounding heart.

He watched her face intently with naked hope. "Shalen's . . . okay?"

Sam's nod reassured him. "Yeah! She's okay sir. I saw her. She's fine."

His eyes closed as he tensely clenched his teeth and sighed angrily back onto his pillow. His hand raised to quickly rub his face in agitation. He sighed, swallowed and nodded, "Thanks." He got his breathing slightly more under control, then opened his eyes and gruffly asked, "How long?"

"Sir, you've been asleep for 10 hours." O'Neill raised his IV'd arm toward her with a questioning look. She winced in sympathy. "Janet felt you needed a little help to get as much sleep as possible before . . . ."

"…withdrawal symptoms," he finished wryly.

"Sir, Janet doesn't think they'll be as bad as what Daniel went through." He nodded nervously and avoided her gaze. Sam had never seen him so agitated. She saw his breath quicken and he licked his lips nervously.

"Where will I be?" His voice was breathless.

"We thought it might be better if you were in one of the isolation rooms. We've prepared it – Janet said you didn't want to be restrained." She avoided his eyes.

He looked at her annoyed that she spoke that information out loud. "Padded the walls did you?" he said through gritted teeth. His head occasionally jerked with tension.

"Uhhhh! As a matter of fact, sir, we did."

He managed a grin through his clenched jaw. "This isn't going to be pleasant, Major, for anyone."

"When is it ever pleasant to have you laid up Colonel O'Neill?" Janet briskly opened the curtain as she and Teal'c came into the room. The Jaffa's imperceptible smile indicated agreement. She reached over and removed O'Neill's IV. "I don't think you'll be keeping this in much longer. We'll move you when . . ."

"I lose control?" His shuddering was getting worse by the minute. "Let's do it. I'm ready now."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


	3. Chapter 3

O'Neill paced around the perimeter of his temporary quarters, veering off around the Jaffa who stood silently and calmly near the door. The Colonel was sweating profusely. His involuntary grunts punctuated the silence of the room. He became more and more agitated as he paced; his movements took him closer and closer to the Jaffa before veering at the last second. He gritted out, "Get outta my way Teal'c. I've had enough Jaffa guards to last a lifetime . . . or six or seven." When Teal'c didn't move, O'Neill tried to physically push him out of the way. His weakened attempt did not even budge the huge, immobile warrior. This enraged the ill man and he began pounding fiercely against the sides of the padded wall.

"O'Neill. Cease! You will cause yourself injury."

"What the f--- do you care? You're really still in the service of Apophis. You're trying to kill me." He shouted toward the door, "Let me the hell outta here." Teal'c's attempts to keep O'Neill from harm were useless. From the hallway, General Hammond shouted, "Teal'c. It's time for you to come out of there." The door opened enough for the Jaffa to leave and was then quickly bolted from the outside.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Out in the hallway, SG1 sat on the floor throughout the night and part of the day while O'Neill raged himself hoarse in the protected room. The observers wondered if the protection was to keep O'Neill from harming himself or from harming them. The Colonel occasionally screamed in agony as he relived his torture. Those on nearby floors in the SGC could hear muffled shouts and screams, but, for the most part, everyone avoided the area. The SF's in charge of guarding the room tiptoed quietly around the worried teammates. The rest of the SGC was quiet as they all waited for the ordeal to be over. In the commissary conversation was hushed and kept to a minimum. The nursing staff and other personnel were watched surreptitiously for any signs that O'Neill was getting better. The watchers were disappointed when they saw a shake of the head accompanied by, "No change."

Janet would occasionally come to check on her patient – and his team. She ineffectually ordered, "You all need to get some rest." She saw pleading looks from Sam and Jonas as well as a questioning look from Teal'c. "There's nothing I can do for him. He hasn't responded to sedatives. It's as if his body is different and the medications don't act the same way. For all I know, it could be making his symptoms worse. I don't know how much more of this he can take." More quietly, she reflected, "I don't know how much more of this we can take."

Over the next hours, the volume of the Colonel's shouting lessened and sounded more hopeless. "Daniel! You have to end this!" The people in the hallway became silent as O'Neill's weakening voice called out to their missing team member. "End this. I can't go back in there. I can't goooo. . ." His voice trailed on the last syllable and then ended abruptly and forcefully. The listeners were startled by a muffled tapping. Janet's eyes opened wide and she pounded the flat of her hand on the door, "Open it, now!"

As they looked into the room, they saw O'Neill in an apparent seizure on the padded floor. After two minutes his movements calmed. Dr. Frasier kneeled at his side and held him as he came to. "Jack, it's Janet. You're at the SGC. You're OK." She turned to his team and ordered, "Talk to him."

"O'Neill, we are here."

"Sir, you're safe. It's OK . . . Jack."

"Uh, Colonel O'Neill. It's good to see you back."

They continued calling out soothingly as the minute hand moved a quarter of an hour. Gradually, O'Neill opened his eyes and appeared confused. "Wha--?"

Janet, still holding his head, responded softly, "Colonel, you've just come out of a seizure. How are you feeling?"

He looked at her and at his team. They were all eyeing him hopefully, but warily. He slowly answered, "I'm tired. Confused. Hungry." Janet appeared pleased by his last comment.

Everyone then looked at Jonas, who responded, "Ah, I'll go get something from the commissary." As he left, they all looked back toward O'Neill.

Janet studied him closely and gently. "Sir, how are you feeling?"

"You asked me that already." He winced as he swallowed. "My throat hurts." The onlookers gave each other meaningful glances.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jonas hurriedly entered the commissary during the dinner shift. The room silenced as they watched him approach the food counter. "I need a plate of food . . . to go."

Robert, the caretaker of the establishment, looked up, "Is it for . . .?"

Jonas breathily replied, "Yeah! Colonel O'Neill." The room erupted in cheers and smiles.

Robert's face broke into a large grin. "In that case, I have his favorite prepared. Give me a minute while I warm it up."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was decided after a night in the infirmary that O'Neill could stay in his base quarters as long as he had nearby supervision. Dr. Frasier knew he would not want an audience for the nightmares that were sure to follow. Sam, Jonas, and Teal'c took turns sitting outside the Colonel's room the first night. As Teal'c came to take the last shift, he asked Major Carter, "Did O'Neill sleep well?"

She sighed heavily. "The longest period of silence lasted about an hour, Teal'c. He keeps waking up in a nightmare. I wish there was some way for him to know he's safe at the SGC while he's sleeping." Teal'c nodded his head solemnly. The pair stood in silence for a moment.

That silence was interrupted by muted shouting followed by a scream of "Noooo!"

Her voice broke. "It's been like this for the past couple hours. How is he standing this?"

"Major Carter. I do not believe he has a choice."

She nodded sadly. "Take care of him, Teal'c."

After his teammate turned the corner, Teal'c looked back toward O'Neill's door. He knocked quietly. The door abruptly opened and a disheveled Colonel looked out. "May I come in O'Neill?"

After a brief hesitation, Jack gestured for Teal'c to enter. "I'm not sleeping anyway. Yeah, sure. Come in."

While Teal'c remained standing near the door, Jack sat at the edge of his bed and sighed deeply. He placed his head in his hands and raised bloodshot eyes to look at his teammate. He gruffed, "Teal'c, would ya just sit down?"

The Jaffa inclined his head and sat in the only chair in the room. "O'Neill. What is disturbing you? You have escaped torture by a system lord. You do not need to continue torturing yourself."

O'Neill glared at the wall beside Teal'c and said nothing. He clenched his teeth firmly.

"It may help to speak of it." Teal'c waited in patient silence. He knew he could sit and wait for an answer for the rest of the evening.

O'Neill knew it too. "Damn it, Teal'c. I don't want to talk about it." His outburst was met with silence. He risked a look at the Jaffa and saw that Teal'c looked back at him calmly. Jack's gaze returned to the wall in front of him. He clenched his jaw in frustration knowing that the Jaffa would not leave him alone until he spoke. "Teal'c. I . . . ahhh" He swallowed. His voice cracked as he continued through clenched teeth, "I almost broke and told Ba'al what he wanted to know."

"But you did not."

O'Neill shouted, "I would have. It was just dumb luck that Yu attacked when he did."

"You blame yourself because you have found there are limits to your endurance."

O'Neill glared at his friend, then huffed. "No Teal'c. I'm well aware I have limits." He ran his hand through his hair and looked toward the floor. He quietly asked, "How do I know I won't break the next time? How can you trust me? How can the SGC trust me?" His head remained down.

"Do you not trust me O'Neill."

With his head whipping up quickly, O'Neill responded gruffly, "Of course I do. I trust you with my life."

The big Jaffa sat quietly for a moment before delivering his bombshell. "You trust me even though I broke and worshipped Apophis again." O'Neill looked up in surprise. "You should learn to forgive yourself as easily as you forgive others."

O'Neill sat in stunned silence as the Jaffa quietly left the room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Robert Hall directed one of his employees to prepare another tray of today's vegetable. It seemed that all the SG teams were back at the same time and on duty. Days like these made him glad he had a number of employees to help with serving. Robert headed a NISH contract that provided food service for the SGC as well as NORAD. The main focus of the contract was to employ individuals with documented disabilities. NISH is a national nonprofit agency that assists community rehabilitation programs to obtain federal contracts. As long as there is a set percentage of employees with a documented disability and they meet the provisions of the Federal contract, Robert's non-profit organization remained in business. They had been providing food service for the SGC since before General Hammond commanded the base. He was glad to have the added perk of working with George Hammond again. It was a private joke between them that Robert was happy to 'serve' again with George. Though his military affiliation was known, no one other than the General and Janet knew how Robert had lost his arm; he wanted to keep it that way. To base personnel, he was an enigma. Though he was technically a civilian, it was OK to reveal mission information to Robert with the General's blessing. Though this was puzzling, it was not questioned.

Robert knew the importance of paid work for individuals with disabilities. After losing his arm during the Vietnam War, he came back depressed and despairing that he could ever be productive again. He certainly couldn't go back to his job on the shipping docks. In the VA hospital, he had received the assistance to go back to school and consider other types of work. He became a psychologist in order to give back what was given to him on his long, arduous journey back from being a POW in Vietnam. After completing his internship and practicing for a number of years, he decided that he was a doer, not a thinker. He decided to provide assistance to people with disabilities in a completely different format. After he won the contract with NORAD and the SGC, he never looked back. He was satisfied with his work coaching others to work in the food industry. Many of his former employees went on to work in the community in non-supported employment. The work was very gratifying – especially today. He looked on as Mick went to the back kitchen area to prepare more vegetables. Mick had a developmental disability and had lived in a sheltered environment all his life. After working for a couple years with Robert, Mick now lived in an apartment on his own with periodic supervision. Leona was serving food and bantering back and forth with the military customers. Who would have thought that the fearful woman with chronic depression and agoraphobia would blossom into the self-assured woman he saw today. A major reason for this change was the self-esteem she gained from returning to work.

Robert's musings were interrupted by unexpected silence. He looked around for the cause and saw Colonel Jack O'Neill walk quietly and, for him, timidly into the commissary. The cacophony of sound resumed as people shouted, "Sir, it's good to see you back." "We saved some food for you, sir." "Jack, son of a gun, it's good to have you back." Those who didn't speak were grinning broadly that the almost indestructible soldier had returned from hell's basement. Robert could tell O'Neill didn't like the attention; he looked like he was going to bolt for the door any second. Instead, he escaped to the counter to order food. Robert quickly relieved Leona in order to interact with Jack personally. "Jack, why don't you just tell me what you want and we'll bring a tray over to your table. Our special today is fish 'n chips." O'Neill shook his head and pointed to the burgers. He gave a tired and grateful smile as he walked to a table in the corner. It didn't escape Robert's notice that he put his back to the corner.

George Hammond had asked him to keep an eye on the returned Colonel and help in any way he could. Many of the SGC personnel had bent Robert's ear after bad missions. He almost felt like a bartender. O'Neill's teammates were included in that group. Robert had been distressed when Daniel died. He had come to admire and respect the archeologist. They had had many deep conversations regarding Daniel's inability to see his CO's military stand on issues. Robert felt the loss of the young man deeply after he died . . . or ascended. Either way, he wasn't here. He had tried to talk with the other members of SG1 about their feelings regarding their lost comrade. Sam and Teal'c and even Jonas came to him often. He never once heard from O'Neill. . . much to General Hammond's regret.

Robert had Leona prepare a tray of food for the colonel. He personally delivered it to the table. O'Neill grumbled a thanks. He didn't make eye contact, so Robert left him to eat in peace. Just as he started in on the pie, Jonas, Sam, and Teal'c came in to eat. Teal'c had a plate full of carbohydrates, Jonas decided on the fish, and Sam had her usual salad. O'Neill made room as his team sat with him around the table.

Not so secretly pleased to see him out of his room, Carter commented, "We didn't expect to see you here, sir." She sat across from him and reached over to get the pepper shaker.

"Yeah, well . . . Doc says I need to get back to normal before she'll put me on active duty."

Teal'c nodded his head in acknowledgement as he flipped open the cover on the ketchup. O'Neill turned to his left. "Got enough food there Teal'c?"

Jonas raised the cruet of vinegar over his fish. "Teal'c, I'll take the ketchup when you're done."

O'Neill turned his head back toward Jonas to make a comment, but his eyes widened and he focused intently on a drop of vinegar on the tip of the cruet that was facing him. He stood up abruptly and his chair went crashing to the floor. He flattened himself into the wall behind him with his arms outspread. He gave out a strangled gasp and said, "Don't!" His face screwed up in pain, his eyes widened in fear, and his breathing became rapid and ragged. While Jonas looked on in shock, Teal'c and Sam responded to his behavior. "O'Neill. What is wrong?" "Sir, you're safe. You're at the SGC." Sam looked quickly toward Jonas and ordered under her breath, "Get a medical team."

The Colonel didn't appear to hear them. He gave a long, agonized scream before collapsing to the floor panting – his eyes were wide and unfocused. Robert appeared suddenly and knelt by the fallen Colonel. "Jack. It's OK. You're at Stargate Command. You're here in the commissary. You just had a flashback." Jack's eyes began to focus on Robert's face as he continued. "Jack. You're at the SGC. It's okay. Your team is here with you in the commissary." O'Neill looked around at the anxious faces which included all the patrons of the eatery. He closed his eyes and swallowed. Robert kept his eyes on the Colonel as he ordered, "Don't you all have something better to do? Give us some air, wouldya?"

Just then, the medical team arrived with Janet at the head. "Clear out people." When they hesitated she spoke more loudly. "That's an order." Robert and Teal'c helped O'Neill to his feet. He stabilized himself with his back against the wall. He looked behind him and touched the flat wall with the palm of his hand. "The commissary." He sighed deeply before turning to walk out of the room. Janet shook her head to let the medical team know not to follow him.

Teal'c did not hesitate before following. "I will walk him back to his quarters."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Major Carter walked timidly up to General Hammonds office. She was still not used to reporting directly to him, but until the Colonel was reinstated to active duty, activities related to SG1 fell on her. She knocked softly while calling out, "Sir?"

Hammond was on the telephone. "I'll get right on that, sir." He waved her into his office and put up his palm to let her know he was almost done. "Right. We'll do that sir." He replaced the receiver on the hook. "Major Carter, what can I do for you?"

"General, I have that report you asked for."

"I'm going to get spoiled." He smiled. "I just asked for it this morning. It would have taken Colonel O'Neill at least two days . . . before I had to remind him again." He chuckled and waved her to be seated after her hesitant smile. "How are you doing with all this Major Carter?"

"Sir?"

He frowned. "I heard about the incident earlier. How are you doing?"

Carter looked clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning. She wanted to open up to someone about her feelings, but felt it was inappropriate to speak with either Teal'c or Jonas now that she had the responsibility as a team leader. She was not close to the other SG teams and felt like she would be betraying her commanding officer if she spoke of her doubts. Janet was also not an option since she controlled the Colonel's return to active duty. She didn't want to cause problems for Colonel O'Neill by revealing her doubts about him. The look on his face in the commissary had shaken her to the core. She had never seen the man with such abject terror and despair on his face. She started as she realized that the general was still waiting for an answer.

He sighed. "That bad."

She looked up with bleary eyes. "Yes sir. It's just that I've never seen him so . . . "

"Scared? Out of control?" He questioned.

"Yes sir. I'm not sure . . ."

"You're not sure you can trust him not to lose it in the field."

Sam looked up with widened, surprised eyes but did not respond.

"Sam, give him some time. He had the snot kicked out of him. It's not the first time and it probably won't be the last." He stood up and walked over to his wall of medals. "He makes it look like he's indestructible, but he's just as human as the rest of us. He'll need our help and support to get back to his usual . . . self."

Sam gave a weak smile and nodded her head. "Yes, sir."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

O'Neill pouted in his room for the remainder of the day and refused to go back out for dinner. His team left him alone. After the breakfast crowd left the following day, he bravely returned to the commissary. He cautiously and thoroughly looked around the room. Robert walked up to stand silently near him without being threatening. "You won't find any cruets. I put them all away."

O'Neill glared at him. He didn't like the fact that he was so obvious to the proprietor.

"We need to take this slow."

"How the hell do you know what I need." Jack was angry at his presumptuousness.

Robert pushed the shoulder with his empty sleeve toward Jack. "Do you think I lost this arm fishing?"

That got O'Neill's attention. It was legendary that no one knew the story – except, it was rumored, General Hammond and Dr. Frasier – and neither one of them was talking.

Robert gestured toward the corner table where O'Neill could watch the entire room. He yelled, "Leona, can you get the colonel a plate of breakfast?"

During the course of the next half hour, Robert related the story of his stint as a POW during the Vietnam war. His companion nodded respectfully upon hearing about the ordeal and interjected comments about his own similar experiences in Iraq. Robert finished his story. "The damage was so bad, the doctors had to amputate it. I haven't looked at a car battery the same way since."

"Do you . . .? Did you uh . . . have flashbacks?"

Robert responded with a huff. "Oh yeah! I know what they're all about. I bet you had some after Iraq."

O'Neill nodded solemnly. His eyes held a vacant look as he remembered some of the older flashbacks as well as his most recent incident reliving the torture in Ba'al's compound.

Robert called him back to the present. "How did you deal with them back then?"

Without hesitation, Jack responded. "I forced myself to face every thing that reminded me of Iraq, and . . . I spent a lot of time at my grandfather's cabin." He was clearly uncomfortable talking about his experience now that his story was the focus. Robert patted his companion's arm. "Come on, man. We've got some work to do."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

O'Neill began daily work with Robert to desensitize to objects that reminded him of Ba'al's torture . . . and to talk. They paired calming techniques with exposure to the objects until Jack barely flinched upon being presented with the items. After another successful day without incident, the pair took a coffee break. They sat in silence while each was lost in thought. O'Neill suddenly exclaimed, "I almost broke."

After a short period of silence, Robert replied, "I did break." He received an incredulous look from Jack. "After daily shock treatments for God knows how many days, I wasn't responding with the same . . . intensity. I guess they wanted more. If I didn't reveal information, they threatened to start the shock treatments on the only one of my teammates left alive." O'Neill looked at him in sympathetic horror. "After I told them what they wanted to know, they laughed and tortured him anyway. It showed me that I was powerless over what happened . . . over what happened to me . . . and over what happened to my teammate. None of it mattered. They were just sick." Robert and Jack sat in companionable silence – each lost in thought. "Well, I gotta get this place ready for the dinner crowd. Hey man, it doesn't look like we need to work on this anymore." At the look of disappointment from his companion, Robert responded, "But you can stop by any time to just shoot the breeze."

Jack responded with an easy grin, "I might just take you up on that, Robert."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Later that day, Jack walked into General Hammonds office. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes Jack. Sit down." He smiled to soften the order. "Doctor Frasier tells me she is ready to release you to go home. She said you're fine medically – other than lack of sleep. Psychologically . . ."

O'Neill cut him off sharply. "Sir, I know Dr. Frasier probably wants me to talk to a shrink before I'm cleared, but . . ."

Hammond loudly cut him short as if he had not interrupted. "Psychologically, you are cleared for light duty after a week of leave time."

"Sir?" Jack wrinkled his brow in puzzlement.

"I believe I stated that quite clearly, Jack. Psychologically, you're cleared to return to work after a week of leave. So, are you going to go fishing on your time off?"

"Uh! Yeah. I suppose so . . . I haven't really thought about it. Yes. No . . . General, how can I be cleared for duty when I haven't seen a psychologist yet?"

Hammond smiled. "So Robert didn't tell you, did he?" At O'Neill's puzzled look, the general explained, "Robert is a licensed psychologist. You'd never know it looking at him." When Jack started protesting about being deceived, the general responded, "Jack, I trust Robert . . . with my life. He and I go way back. We were teammates in Nam. We were the only two who made it back alive after being captured and held for two months. I don't need an official psychological report. Robert's word is good enough for me. Now, get the hell out of here before I find something for you to do."

"Yes sir." Jack got up and walked dazedly toward the door. He stopped and turned just before reaching the door knob as a thought occurred to him. "Sir, why didn't you tell me you were a POW?"

Hammond responded with a grin, "If I told you everything about my career . . . I'd have to shoot you, Jack."

The SGC's 2IC mumbled, "Yes sir." He nodded once, then continued out the door numbly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hammond and Robert left the base together later that night. "George, you up for a game and some brew?"

"Yeah! The usual place?" Robert nodded his head with a grin. All of a sudden, Hammond slapped him on the back and exclaimed loudly, "Guess that degree in Psychology helped after all. I'm sure glad you decided to open up a restaurant instead." George kept his hand on Roberts shoulder as they continued out of the mountain.

The End.


End file.
